


A Long Way Home

by sushigal007



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: But it helps, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Ozai doesn't really need an excuse to try and murder his son, Yue (Avatar) Lives, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko Joins The Gaang Early (Avatar), Zuko catches the Avatar, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, ace zuko, he quickly starts to wish he hadn't
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29570745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sushigal007/pseuds/sushigal007
Summary: For three years, Zuko searched for the Avatar. But he'd never really thought that much about what would happen once he succeeded.Alternatively: Zuko actually has a plan for catching the Avatar at the North Pole. Somehow, it works. But after a few days of pai sho and tea, he begins to wonder if maybe it would've be better if it hadn't.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 110





	1. PROLOGUE

**Author's Note:**

> After years of hearing how great Avatar was, I decided to watch it when it arrived on Netflix during Lockdown 1.0. And then I had to write fanfic, because Zuko joining the gaang halfway through season 3 was simply not soon enough.

Uncle had always told him he didn't think things through. So now he was hidden on Zhao's ship with nothing to do and nobody to shout at and there were only so many times he could fantasize about setting Zhao's sideburns on fire while he slept. And so, for possibly the first time ever, Zuko found himself just... thinking things through. Plotting. _Planning._

His original plan had simply been: find the Avatar, capture the Avatar, take the Avatar home, regain his honour (make his father love him). But as that plan kept failing, he was finally forced to concede that  _maybe_ it needed a few more steps. At the very least, he probably needed to find a way to stop the Avatar from  _escaping_ all the time. 

So, new step. Incapacitate the Avatar somehow.

And now he thought he might maybe actually have a possible idea on how to do that.

The thought had suddenly occurred to him when he'd been making a mental list of everything he knew about the Avatar. He was an airbender. He could fly. He didn't keep his promises. He was... a lot younger than Zuko had been expecting. And he'd first shown up in the South Pole.

They said he'd been trapped in an iceberg.

At first, Zuko had dismissed that piece of information for being complete nonsense, but... people kept on gossiping about it. And there weren't a lot of places to hide in the South Pole. And this was definitely the same Avatar that had been missing for the last one hundred years, because he was definitely still an airbender and therefore hadn't been reborn to the next element in the cycle, but you'd expect the Avatar to  _age_ if he'd simply been in hiding. He knew Avatars lived long lives, he'd spent the last few years doing his research, but even so, the Avatar looked  _seriously_ young for someone who'd been hiding for 100 years.

So... maybe he really  _had_ been frozen.

And while he was frozen, he hadn't been  _doing_ anything. Not flying. Not escaping. Not leading Zuko on a merry swangoose chase across the world. Because he'd been frozen.

Could Zuko possibly... freeze him again?

Ordinarily, he would've dismissed that idea for being complete nonsense as well; after all, firebending and freezing didn't exactly go hand in hand. But. The Avatar had very helpfully taken himself to the North Pole. And Zhao had even more very helpfully given Zuko a free ride up in his ship. His shiny new ship with it's shiny new galley containing a shiny new freezer. Very generous of him. And the very least he could do after stealing his crew, blowing up his ship and making Uncle worry.

Burning sideburns would look  _so_ good on Zhao.

He allowed himself the pleasure of that mental image for a full ten seconds and then, rather reluctantly shook it away. Planning. That was what he needed to concentrate upon. He needed to work out how he was going to get into the Northern Water Tribe (follow Zhao in his pilfered uniform), how to find the Avatar (...follow Zhao some more), how to incapacitate the Avatar and his irritating friends (Zhao had a whole fleet at his disposal, let them all wear each other out until he could sneak in and grab the Avatar (it wouldn't be the first time he'd snatched the Avatar from Zhao's clutches, he could do it again, surely)) and freeze him (ice???) (snow?????) (he'd get back to that one), how to incapacitate Zhao (SIDEBURNS. ON FIRE.) and how to get the Avatar back to the ship once he was frozen (a sledge made out of scrap metal he'd already found down in the hold. At least he'd got  _one_ thing figured out).

It... needed some work still, he could admit it.

Happily, he still had nothing to do and nobody to shout at and plenty of time until they reached the North Pole. Plenty of time in which to (hopefully) think of something a little more detailed than  _???_

As it turned out, he never did think of anything else. But somehow, it didn't matter because the Avatar had _extremely_ helpfully put himself in some sort of magic coma, and the waterbender's bending had failed when Zhao had gone fishing and the moon had disappeared, and then all chaos had broken loose and somehow, Zuko had managed to slip away unseen.

He had managed to carry out the 'Incapacitate Zhao' part of the plan before leaving though. And he'd been right. Flaming sideburns looked _great_ on Zhao.


	2. CHAPTER ONE

“I'm requisitioning this ship to transport the Avatar back to the Fire Nation,” Zuko snapped, tilting his face up to glare at the soldiers blocking the gangway. Without the (rather sinister) (... _really_ rather sinister) (he wasn't going to think about that right now) skull mask covering his face, there was no mistaking his true identity. Sometimes that bothered him. This was not one of those times. The soldiers took one look at him, one look at the large, frost-covered lump on the scrap metal sledge behind him, one look at the Dragon of the West a little further behind him, and immediately stood aside without a word. Zuko stomped up the gangway as loudly and intimidatingly as possible and then paused and turned back around. “...Which way is the galley?”

“This way, Prince Zuko,” his Uncle said cheerfully as he caught up to him. “Let's get your...” He paused and looked at the icy lump Zuko was wrangling with and definitely did _not_ look at the very angry, very shouty blue Avatar spirit jumping around him. “...Cargo into the freezer and while we're there, I'll make us a nice pot of tea.”

“I don't want any tea, Uncle!” Zuko snapped. At least, that was what Iroh suspected he'd said. It was a _little_ difficult to hear him properly when the Avatar was screaming things like “GIVE ME BACK MY BODY, YOU FIRE JERK” in various combinations.

“Tea,” Iroh repeated jovially. “To warm us up after out little excursion.” And then tried not to wince when the Avatar's angry screaming got louder.

“We don't have _time_ for tea!” Zuko growled, trying to drag the sledge a little faster. There was a loud _SKREE_ that set everybody's teeth on edge and sparks flew up from the floor. Moving the sledge across the ship's metal floor was turning out to be a lot harder than pulling it across snow, he belatedly noted. “Give me a hand with this!” He _refused_ to lose the Avatar now because he couldn't get him into the freezer fast enough!

Uncle Iroh smiled sweetly and Zuko's shoulders slumped. “...And then I'll have tea with you.”

“Don't you dare!” the Avatar yelled, and tried to push back against the block of ice, to absolutely no effect. “Put me back- Zuko! Don't- you are _so dead_ when Sokka and Katara get their hands on you!”

And that was their cue to leave, Iroh decided. He did not want to be quite so close to the Northern Water Tribe once the Avatar broke free, as he undoubtedly would. And so as soon as they'd finished arranging the Avatar's frozen body in the freezer, Iroh stepped back and nodded politely at his nephew. “Could you begin heating the water while I go and instruct the captain to set a course for the Fire Nation?”

Zuko scowled but didn't say no, which Iroh took as a yes, and turned tail and left before the sight of the Avatar trying to punch his nephew in the head made him lose his composure completely. If anyone wondered why he was laughing to himself as he made his way to the bridge, they were too polite to ask.

He'd managed to get himself back under control by the time he reached his destination and coughed politely to get the captain's attention. “General Iroh,” the man said, bowing in acknowledgement. “Can I help you?”

“Yes. Could you be so kind as to set a course for the Fire Nation?” Iroh asked with a benign smile.

The captain frowned and turned his attention back to the smouldering ice wall in front of them. “Admiral Zhao-”

“Alas, will not be joining us.” Iroh's smile grew wider. “He has been taken prisoner by the Northern Water Tribe. We will negotiate his release at a later time.”

Or not.

“But-”

It was not physically possible for Iroh's smile to grow wider. Somehow it did. “You see, Captain Yu, Prince Zuko has successfully captured the Avatar. He is here on this ship, right now. I believe the Fire Lord would consider the return of the Avatar to be of a slightly higher priority than the return of Admiral Zhao, don't you agree?”

The other man opened his mouth, possibly to question the words “Prince Zuko” or “the Avatar”, remembered who he was looking at, swallowed audibly and nodded. “Y-yes Sir. I'll set a course right away.”

“Good.” Iroh nodded and stepped back. “And I shall go and see just how badly my nephew is brutalising the tea.”

The answer was: very. Still, bad tea was still tea, and he sipped it slowly as he watched his nephew pace the galley while the Avatar waved his hands at a variety of kitchen knives. “As soon as I figure out how to touch things...” the Avatar muttered, and put his hand through a soup pan. Iroh frowned behind his teacup: he knew spirits usually couldn't interact with the physical world, it took time for that to happen. But the Avatar had all his past lives to call upon, so who knew how long it would take for him?

...Perhaps it would be wise if he persuaded Zuko to leave the room filled with sharp, pointy things. “Prince Zuko, why don't you come and join me on the deck?” he suggested, putting his horrible tea back down again.

“I don't...” Zuko stopped pacing for a moment and stared at the freezer door. “I should stand guard-”

“You can't stand guard forever. You have to sleep sometime,” Iroh pointed out. Then he chuckled. “Unless, of course, you are planning to drag your bedding down here.”

“...”

“Please do not drag your bedding down here.” He should've known better than to put that idea in his stubborn nephew's head, he thought ruefully. “The ship's cook will not be happy to find you underfoot. Speaking of which, we should probably find them and let them know about the frozen Avatar in their freezer, don't you think?” he suggested.

Zuko shot another wary look towards the freezer and slowly nodded. He definitely did not want the ship's cook to go wandering in there and start chipping away at the Avatar's new ice prison out of curiosity. “Very well,” he conceded. He followed his uncle out onto the deck and heaved a small sigh of relief when he spotted the last of the crew pulling up the gangplank to leave. The sooner they left, the more distance they could put between themselves and the Avatar's friends.

That thought sent his gaze skywards, searching for any sign of the Avatar's bison. Hopefully they'd have the sense to wait until the siege against the Northern Water Tribe had been called off, but he knew better now than to expect _sense_ from the Avatar and his friends-

“Ah, Nephew, here is the cook.”

Uncle Iroh's voice cut through his thoughts and he dragged his gaze down to look at the man standing next to his uncle. “Chef Jun, Prince Zuko,” Iroh continued. “I'll leave you two to shout at each other.”

Zuko opened his mouth to protest the implication that he couldn't communicate without shouting, but maddeningly enough, his uncle had moved away to the point where the only way he'd be able to communicate was by shouting. So instead he was forced to turn his attention back to Chef Jun and explain about the frozen Avatar in the freezer, no he wasn't taking up _that_ much space, there was no need to add more supply stops to the journey, no really, that was just asking for somebody to sneak aboard and free the Avatar, speaking of which, they would need guards on the galley at all times, no he wasn't accusing the crew of anything, even though they were all strangers who, until now, had all been serving under the man who'd blown up his ship with him on it and no he was not shouting, it was just raised voices-

He broke off, suddenly realising theirs was the only ship moving _away_ from the city. “Uncle!” he shouted, abandoning Chef Jun to chase after his uncle. “Why have the rest of the fleet not withdrawn?”

“Hmm.” Iroh gazed out over the water for a moment, considering his words. “Their orders were to lay siege to the Northern Water Tribe for harbouring the Avatar,” he said neutrally and waited to hear what his nephew had to say about that. Assuming he'd be able to hear it over the Avatar's squawking.

Zuko frowned. “But... we have the Avatar in custody,” he said slowly, staring at the smoke pouring out of the holes in the city's defences.

“So what are your orders, Prince Zuko?” Iroh asked mildly. A prince outranked a retired general, after all. Even a banished one. Especially a banished one who had the fulfilled the impossible terms of his banishment. Still, he hoped...

Zuko considered his options. He _could_ let the fleet carry on their siege. The Water Tribe, as his uncle had pointed out, _had_ harboured the Avatar and made themselves a viable target. Plus it would hamper any attempt to rescue the Avatar. But... he really didn't want to be responsible for any further bloodshed. It was one thing for Zhao to order a siege, quite another for Zuko to allow it to continue. A withdrawal would be a sign of good faith and could open up future negotiations.

And he didn't _like_ hurting people. Not if it could be avoided. Especially not if there were civilians (children) involved.

He tried not to think about how young the Avatar was.

“Order a withdrawal,” he decided. “There's no point in continuing a siege when we have what we came for. Besides,” he added, suddenly inspired. “The rest of the fleet will provide us cover when the Avatar's friends attempt to rescue him.”

“Very well, Prince Zuko,” Iroh said, bowing low to hide a relieved smile. Even the Avatar had stopped shouting for a moment. “I shall go and tell the Captain to pass on your instructions to the rest of the fleet.”

He straightened up and walked away, a placid smile on his face hiding the busy mind at work. According to his contacts, the Avatar had mastered waterbending and could now move on to seeking out an earthbending master. If they were lucky, the Avatar's allies would wait until the ship was closer to the Earth Kingdom before making their inevitable rescue attempt, so that they could immediately make their escape across land and force Iroh and his nephew to abandon ship, rather than risking being chased over open water by a warship that could move a lot faster than their previous vessel.

So. He'd better start making preparations to leave at once. They'd need supplies to last several weeks on the water, because _he_ knew, once the Avatar was gone, they would have no further claim to this ship and would be obligated to leave. A lifeboat would take at least three weeks to reach the Earth Kingdom from their current location, and he didn't particularly relish the prospect of trying to make tea without a galley, but perhaps an enforced break from his quest would force his nephew to slow down and _think_.

He couldn't help chuckling aloud at that thought.

“A joke, General Iroh?” the captain asked politely.

“Merely a private fancy,” Iroh said, waving a hand dismissively. “My nephew orders that the fleet be recalled to escort the Avatar back to the Fire Nation.”

The captain nodded. “I shall pass the order on at once.”

Iroh nodded back and moved to turn away.

“And I have also taken the liberty of sending on a hawk to the Fire Lord, informing him of his son's success in apprehending the Avatar.”

All lingering traces of mirth drained from Iroh's face at once and he spun back to stare at the man. “You have taken the _liberty?_ ”

The captain opened his mouth, ready to bask in glory, and then belatedly noticed the fury in the general's eyes. “Uh...”

“Did I _order_ you to send a messenger hawk to the Fire Lord?” Iroh snapped. “Did Prince Zuko order you to send a messenger hawk to the Fire Lord?”

“N-no sir, but- the Prince- he was thought dead, surely-” Captain Yu stammered, beginning to sweat.

“This is not the first time the Avatar has been taken prisoner,” Iroh said coldly. “It is not even the second. He escaped from the Pohuai Stronghold with the assistance of _spirits,_ he could well escape from this ship at any time.”

“And I will!” the Avatar yelled somewhere behind him. Iroh gritted his teeth and ignored him.

“Prince Zuko will not have succeeded in his mission until the Avatar has been delivered to the Fire Lord. For your sake, and his, I pray to Agni that the Avatar is still upon this ship when we dock in the Fire Nation.” And with that, he whirled around and strode away. _Damn_ the man! The longer his brother thought Zuko dead, the safer the boy was, while further failure to capture the Avatar would bring Ozai's wrath down upon him, and Zuko most definitely did not need any more of _that._

He looked down the deck to where his nephew was shouting and sighed deeply. He didn't wish to see the boy come to further harm at his father's hand, but it was inevitable. It always had been, he just wished it wasn't going to come so soon. His best hope now was to use the time they had to try and persuade his beloved, troubled, ridiculously loyal nephew to face the truth.


	3. CHAPTER TWO

Zuko looked over his new quarters with approval. Of course, seeing as his old quarters had been 'squidged behind pipework in a storage room', just having a _bed_ was an improvement, and it was this that he flung himself face-down upon with a crow of delight, looking for just a moment like the sixteen year old boy he really was.

“Are your rooms satisfactory, your Highness?” Captain Yu asked, trying to keep the nerves out of his voice. Prince Iroh had ordered him to keep quiet about the hawk he'd sent to the Fire Lord, and he was eager to make up for that mistake before the old man murdered him. “I can have the crew send up anything you require.”

“That won't be necessary,” Zuko murmured, wriggling a little deeper into the covers. The adrenaline rush from _finally catching the Avatar_ was beginning to wear off and all he wanted to do was crawl under the blankets, away from the polar chill and _sleep-_

“Very well, your Highness.” The man bowed low. “If you change your mind, please feel free to ask. My crew are at your command.”

“Mmm.”

“Perhaps some fresh clothes for my nephew,” Iroh cut in, looking at Zuko's wrinkled, stolen uniform that he'd been wearing for a week. “And Zhao's personal effects should be gathered up and placed into storage-”

Zuko's eyes snapped open in horror. These were _Zhao's_ quarters!?

The bed erupted into flames. A moment later he found himself face down in a pile of ashes.

“...And some clean bedding,” Iroh added, fighting back a smile. He stopped fighting it when even the Avatar spirit giggled at the scene. “Oh, and could you send up the ship's doctor?”

Zuko sat up at once in alarm. “What's wrong, uncle? Are you OK?”

Iroh smiled fondly and shook his head. “For _you_ , Prince Zuko. Do not argue with me,” he forged on as Zuko opened his mouth to do just that. “You were injured in that explosion and have yet to receive any medical treatment.” He felt the Avatar staring at him in surprise and smiled grimly. Good. Perhaps the flightly youngster would start to understand that there was more to his nephew than just an angry, shouty flamethrower. “The sooner a doctor can assure me of your good health, the less I will fuss over you.”

“...Very well,” Zuko conceded and gave the captain a curt nod. He waited until the man had left, and then waited another full ten seconds longer before speaking again. “Uncle? What happened to Zhao? After I left?”

“You mean, after you set his sideburns on fire?” Iroh asked with a twinkle in his eye.

Zuko blushed and looked away. “I know my actions were childish-”

“Your childish actions saved the life of the moon spirit,” Iroh quickly reassured him. There was a snort behind him and it took every ounce of his self control not to spin around and sternly inform the Avatar that yes, really. “The Water Tribe Princess was able to return the spirit back to the oasis while Zhao was, ah, distracted, and then their warriors apprehended him.”

“I see.” Zuko frowned and looked thoughtfully out of the window. “How would we go about negotiating his release?”

Iroh raised his eyebrows in surprise, then wondered why he was surprised. He already knew that despite Ozai's best efforts to burn it out of him, the boy was still too compassionate for his own good. But even so... “He conspired with pirates to kill you,” he reminded Zuko, ignoring the gasp from the Avatar. “He almost succeeded.”

“But he failed.” Zuko held out his arms to show how very not-dead he was. “And he _is_ one of our people. It wouldn't be right to abandon him.”

Iroh sighed. “Very well. I shall see what can be done. But,” he cautioned, holding up a hand to stop Zuko from interrupting, “not until after we have crossed the border back into the Fire Nation. He has already interfered with your mission on several occasions and I'm in no hurry to give him another opportunity.” Privately, he suspected the man had already been tossed off an iceberg after his attempt to violate the spirits, but he wasn't about to share that information with his nephew.

xxx

“Come on... where are you guys?" Aang paced back and forth across the deck, pausing occasionally to stare at the sky, which continued to be notable for it's distinct lack of sky-bison. “I could really use your help right now.”

The sky stayed maddeningly empty.

Aang sighed and contemplated his options. He could go and try returning to his body again, but he'd tried that for a solid hour already and just couldn't find a way to pass through the ice surrounding himself. He could try and find Katara and Sokka instead of hanging around waiting for them to find him, but he wasn't certain he'd be able to find his way back here afterwards. Could he even move that far away from his body? And what if he jumped overboard and just sunk straight to the bottom of the ocean? And even if he did manage to find Katara and Sokka, would he even be able to communicate with them? He hadn't had any luck so far with yelling at Zuko.

Then again... he'd left Zuko's quarters when the other boy had started taking his clothes off for the doctor and revealed a lurid set of bruises, presumably from the pirates or the explosion his uncle had mentioned. He couldn't help being impressed that Zuko had managed to fight Zhao and capture Aang himself when he was quite clearly recovering from several broken ribs, and dammit, he didn't _want_ to be impressed by Zuko when Zuko had his body frozen in a cooler!

But it was night now, and Zuko was probably asleep, and the boundaries between the real world and the spirit world were always thinner in dreams.

Which meant maybe if he shouted at Zuko _now,_ the other boy might hear him. Maybe he could guilt him into letting him go. Or maybe he could just make it so difficult to sleep, he'd eventually be _forced_ to let him go.

With that thought in mind, he marched back inside the ship and down a corridor- nope, back this way- or maybe- no, wait, had it right the first time-

Half an hour later, he finally arrived at his destination. The door was closed, but he was able to walk straight through it- “Huh. Wonder why I don't fall straight through... nope, stopping that thought right there before it comes true,” he mumbled, and shook his head. That done, he fixed his gaze upon the figure lying on the bedroll and narrowed his eyes. “All right, you... you... argh!” He threw his hands up in frustration. “I don't even know enough words to describe how _awful_ you are! Well I do, but I'm not allowed to say them!”

“I'm sorry...” Zuko mumbled in his sleep.

“Yeah, you should be,” Aang scolded, and sat down on the floor next to the bedroll in order to glower at close range. “I can't believe I ever thought we could be _friends_ -”

“I am your loyal son...”

Aang's mouth snapped shut and he peered closer at the sleeping prince. Was Zuko... _crying?_ “Hey. Uh, are you OK?” he asked cautiously, leaning in a little closer.

Zuko's eyes flew open and Aang shot backwards with a scream of fright. “Gah! Don't DO that!” he shrieked, clutching his chest tightly.

Zuko didn't reply. Instead he simply lay there for a few seconds, staring blankly up at the ceiling, then sighed deeply and sat up, swiping a hand across his face. Then he threw the covers aside and stood up, and Aang hurriedly sidestepped out of the way. He'd bumped into a few other crewmembers that evening, and being walked through wasn't an experience he cared to repeat. So instead he stayed a few steps behind Zuko as he walked silently through the ship until he reached the galley and stopped in front of the freezer.

“Zuko?” Aang asked warily as Zuko reached out and opened the freezer door. Cool mist rolled out around them and he decided not to look down and see if it was going through his feet. “What are you doing?”

Zuko stepped inside and wiped the frost off of the block of ice until Aang's face was visible. The spirit version of Aang's eyes widened. “Wait, did it _work?_ Are you going to let me go? That's great!” He bounced gleefully on the balls of his feet. “Wow, I thought it was gonna take _way_ more than that...”

His voice trailed off. Zuko was pressing the palm of his hand over the ice. Faint wisps of steam rose between his fingers, but Aang could still clearly see that the hand was positioned over half of his face.

It was... awfully similar to the placement of Zuko's scar, he noted. He'd never really paid much attention to it before, it was just _there,_ all big and gross and red and scary and how had he never noticed before that it was shaped like a _hand-_

“Stupid,” Zuko muttered, taking a step back. He stared at the frozen Avatar for a moment longer and then abruptly spun around and left.

Aang didn't follow. He didn't want to interfere with Zuko's dreams any more.

xxx

The sky was filled with fluffy white clouds.

It was _not_ filled with fluffy white sky bisons.

Iroh stepped out onto the deck, closed his eyes, basked in the early morning sunlight and breathed deeply, inhaling cool, salty sea air. Then he opened his eyes and watched his nephew pace the deck of the ship like a caged tigermoose. Closely followed by the Avatar's spirit.

Amusing. But not very productive.

“Nephew!” he called out, and strode across the deck towards him. “Come, sit with me and play a little pai sho!”

“Pai-” Zuko spun around and stared at his uncle in disbelief. “How did you manage to find a _pai sho_ set on a _warship!?_ Wait, never mind, I don't care,” he added quickly before Uncle Iroh could answer. “I'm too busy to play games.”

“Oh?” Iroh said mildly. “And what are you too busy doing?”

Zuko spluttered for a moment and then gestured wildly at the sky. “I'm keeping watch for the Avatar's friends, of course!”

“Oh?” Iroh said again and looked innocently up at the bison-free sky. “You suspect they're going to evade the notice of the six crewmembers in the lookout posts?”

“Well-”

“The two at the helm?”

“But-”

“The two at the stern?”

“You don't-”

“And the twelve lined up on either side of the deck?” His expression softened as his nephew began spluttering. “Prince Zuko. You need to rest.”

“I'll rest when I deliver the Avatar to my father,” Zuko snapped and resumed pacing.

Iroh sighed and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Prince Zuko,” he tried again. “You are injured. If”

(when)

“the Avatar's friend's show up, you will need all your strength to defend your prize.” He saw Zuko's steps falter and breathed a small, private sigh of relief. “I shall have the pai sho board brought out here on deck if that helps, but I do hope you will not spend _all_ your time looking at the sky instead of the board. Let the crew do their jobs.” He smiled widely. “They're really very good at it!”

“...Yeah,” Zuko said a little sourly, looking around at the crewmembers standing to attention, spaced out at regular intervals along the deck. A far cry from his own ragtag crew of the worst the Fire Nation Navy had to offer. The only similarity between the two was that these people also were very clearly unhappy at having to follow the orders of a disgraced teenage prince. “Nice to have professionals working for me for a change.”

(Still. They'd been _his_ crew and he hoped they were safely on one of the other ships and not languishing in an icy prison cell with Zhao.)

He shook that thought away and followed (stomped) after his uncle with minimal under-the-breath grumbling. He didn't want to play pai sho while all these shiny soldiers glared at him for leaving them to do all the work. He wanted to pace the decks, looking for blind spots. He wanted to practice his bending. He wanted to walk around and familiarise himself with the layout of this new ship. He wanted to do _something,_ anything other than sit and wait to be attacked.

But his uncle had a point. Even though the waterbender no longer had the power of the full moon behind her, she and the Avatar had been training with a Master while Zuko had been hiding in dark corners, nursing concussion, two untreated broken ribs and numerous shrapnel wounds. He'd only won the last battle because the Avatar had been in his glowy trance and Zhao had done... _something_ to the moon and cut off the waterbenders from their element. If he wanted to stand any chance of defeating them a second time, he needed to be in top physical condition. Which wasn't going to happen, but he could at least try and aim for _slightly better_ physical condition, and if he failed, then, well, it didn't really matter if these soldiers thought he was a lazy, spoilt brat because he'd have to leave this ship and start his search all over again.

So he sat down opposite his uncle and accepted a cup of tea and a bowl of spiced rice and glared at the board game he still had no real idea how to play.

“-And the Rhododendron tile can be moved up to five spaces in a single direction,” Iroh finished for the benefit of not only his nephew, but the Avatar spirit that had finally sidled over to watch.

“I know how the flower tiles work, Uncle,” Zuko lied. He'd already forgotten how the Jasmine and Rose tiles differed, but it didn't really matter. He was already planning to just make a pretty pattern with them. “You can go first.”

The game began. For several minutes, they played in silence. Iroh set up a White Jade gambit. Zuko set up the beginnings of what would be a rather lovely snowflake, if only his uncle would stop stealing his pieces.

“So,” Iroh began, breaking the silence. “We are finally heading back to the Fire Nation.”

“Mmm,” Zuko mumbled and illegally placed a Lily tile.

Iroh pretended not to notice. “It has been a long time,” he said instead, placing his Boat tile down right in the way of the edge of the snowflake. “Three years of searching.” He felt the Avatar start in surprise and smiled grimly. _That's right. Think about it, Avatar. The dates don't add up, do they?_ “But now you finally have the Avatar.”

“For now,” Zuko muttered. Iroh pretended to ignore that as well.

“Your father should be proud.” _Should_ be, Iroh thought a little glumly. But almost certainly wouldn't be. “You must be...”

(terrified)

“looking forward to seeing him again.”

Zuko twitched. “I...” He hesitated, trying to find the right words, and then gave up and placed a Knotweed tile instead. He didn't want to think about his father and how disappointed he would be when the Avatar escaped again. It made him nauseous and even his usually easygoing uncle might object if Zuko threw up all over the pai sho board. “It's your move.”

Iroh ignored the attempt to change the subject as easily as he'd ignored the illegal moves. “We should be back in Fire Nation waters by the end of the week.”

That got Zuko's attention, and he looked up from the board, his good eye wipe open in surprise. “That soon?”

Iroh chuckled. “Yes, these new ships are much faster than the _Wani,_ ” he said cheerfully. “And Zhao made sure to put himself in command of the fastest.”

“...Of course,” Zuko said bitterly and tried not to think about how much easier things could've been if he'd had a ship like this three years ago. Or just a ship that _worked_. He tried to tell himself it was just because his father wanted him to prove that no obstacles would stand in his way... but it was a little harder to ignore the fact that Zhao hadn't had any such obstacles thrown in _his_ path. Quite the opposite, in fact, the only thing that had been thrown at him was resources. Ships, soldiers, _Yuyan archers_... it was almost as if his father didn't want-

He shook his head before that traitorous thought could finish taking root. _I did it, though. I captured the Avatar, not Zhao._

Now all he had to do was keep hold of him.


	4. CHAPTER THREE

The sky was filled with fluffy white clouds.

It was _still_ not filled with fluffy white sky bisons.

Iroh scanned the deck hopefully, ready to drag his nephew back to the pai sho board for a little more gaming and tea and mental manipulation, and was mildly surprised to find him missing. After a moment's thought, he turned around and walked towards the galley.

Sure enough, as he approached, he could the sound of raised voices.

“-Putting a chain across the door!” Chef Jun yelled, waving a meat cleaver in the direction of the freezer.

“I don't care how inconvenient it is!” Zuko yelled back. “We're docking in two hours, let the crew eat in port, I'm not risking-”

“Ahem.” Iroh watched with some amusement as the cleaver vanished before turning to face his irate nephew. “is something wrong, Prince Zuko?”

“Yes!” Zuko straighten up to his full height of not very much and gestured towards the freezer. “I want the Avatar made more secure while we're in port, but _apparently,_ it's more important that Chef Jun here takes twenty seconds less time to fetch a frozen pig-chicken!”

“With all due respect, _your Highness,_ my team are trying to prepare a meal for two hundred and fifty-three people!” Chef Jun argued furiously. “Do you know how much prep work that involves!? We don't have the time to chain up the freezer every time we need to fetch ingredients!”

Iroh looked behind him at the rest of the galley crew, who suddenly found themselves urgent work to do, and then turned back to the chef. “You make a good point,” he conceded. “But the security of the Avatar is also of utmost importance,” he quickly added before Zuko could explode again. “Perhaps some sort of compromise could be arranged?”

“...What sort of compromise?” Zuko asked warily.

Iroh shrugged. “Guards outside the freezer?” he suggested. “Or perhaps a reduced menu until we leave port?”

Chef Jun mulled it over, trying to decide which option would be less disruptive to his carefully crafted meal schedule. “I suppose we could work around a few guards,” he finally allowed. “So long as they don't get in the way.”

“Wonderful,” Iroh said. “Come along, Prince Zuko, let's leave Chef Jun to his work” he said, and began herding the boy out of the galley before he could make any objections. Not that it stopped him from trying, but Iroh had years of experience now in tuning out teenage temper tantrums and pretended to be deaf until they were back out on the deck. “Now, nephew, perhaps another game of pai sho before we reach shore?”

“I don't want to play pai sho!” Zuko finally yanked his arm out of his uncle's grip (which he totally could've done at any point up until now, he'd just _chosen_ not too) and glowered at him. “I want to finalise security arrangements for the Avatar while the ship is docked!”

“Guards in the galley. Guards outside the galley,” Iroh retorted, ticking off each statement on his fingers. “Guards at every junction below deck. Guards at every entrance leading below deck. Double the number of guards _on_ deck, and the only reason you have not assigned more guards to the lookout posts is because there isn't enough room for them.” Plus the identical arrangements on the five decoy ships still flanking them... and the twenty other groups of ships that had split off and gone their separate ways. “If you put any more of the crew on guard duty, there will be nobody left to load the supplies on board!” He began herding Zuko towards the sturdy table where the pai sho board was already set up for them. “So come, sit down and relax, and while we play, we can talk about what you need to buy while we're docked.”

“What I...?” Zuko stepped out of his uncle's grip again and stared at him. “I'm not going _shopping,_ I have-”

“-No clothes of your own,” Iroh finished sternly. “No swords. No play scrolls or theatre memorabilia. No stuffed turtleduck-”

“ _Shhhh_!” Zuko hissed in an agonised whisper, eyes darting around to make sure nobody had overheard. “How did you even-?”

“My point is, Prince Zuko,” Iroh continued as if his nephew hadn't spoken, “you have nothing on this ship that belongs to _you_ except for the dagger you happened to be carrying when Zhao's thugs blew up your ship.” His expression softened and he gave the boy a gentle pat on the shoulder. “At least _consider_ buying some new clothes. You cannot return home in a borrowed uniform and boots.”

Zuko wiggled his toes in the smallest size boots that were still a size too big for him and sighed. His uncle had a point there. And it might be a good idea to replace his dao blades too, if (when) the Avatar's friends showed up, he'd feel more comfortable tackling the non-bender Water Tribe boy with weapons than with fire.

A new stuffed turtleduck was out of the question though. He was _far_ too old for such frivolities.

(Although if his Uncle decided to buy one for him, he wouldn't object.)

“Very well, Uncle,” he said, and allowed himself to be led over to the pai sho board, where he decided that today, he was going to make a butterfly out of his tiles.

Iroh heaved a quiet sigh of relief and began sorting the tiles out while he tried to decide where to start talking. With any luck, the Avatar's friends would strike while they were off the ship, and then he could blame it on the crew. It wasn't particularly fair on them, but if the alternative was Zuko blaming himself while his father burned the other side of his face off, then Iroh would throw the entire Fire Nation Navy into the (literal) line of fire.

“So,” he began, and placed his first tile down. “I assume you checked upon the Avatar while you were in the galley?” The actual Avatar, who had been standing sulkily behind his nephew's chair, looked up sharply at this.

“Yeah,” Zuko muttered.

Iroh waited. “...And?” he prompted when Zuko failed to elaborate. “How is he?”

Zuko shrugged and randomly placed a tile of his own. “Still glowing. Still frozen.”

“Gonna freeze _you_ when I get out, see how _you_ like it,” the Avatar muttered bitterly before turning his attention back to the sky.

“He is much younger than I expected,” Iroh commented innocently. “Quite different to the old man we were anticipating!”

“...Yeah.”

“Twelve years old, apparently,” Iroh continued, watching his nephew and the lurking Avatar spirit carefully through lowered eyes. “Just a year younger than you were.”

“What?” Zuko looked blankly at him for a moment and then his good eye widened. “That's- you think- that has nothing to do with anything!”

“Oh?” Iroh looked up fully, looking pointedly at the scarred side of Zuko's face. “Do you really think so?”

Zuko flushed, but returned his uncle's gaze without flinching. “There's no reason to... the Avatar did nothing while he was frozen for a hundred years, the Fire Nation could _easily_ keep him frozen and out of the way for a hundred more.”

Iroh stared back, letting an uncomfortable silence stretch out between them for several seconds, and then finally relaxed and smiled sweetly. “Of course, I see.”

Still, he deliberately didn't reassure his nephew that of _course_ the Firelord wouldn't burn the Avatar's face. If it were true, it would only be because Ozai would _do so much worse._

xxx

Interfering with Zuko's dreams had been a bust, but there were, what was it, two hundred and fifty something other people on this boat he could go and talk to while they slept. Well, not all two hundred and what, because there was a skeleton crew on night shift, but it still took Aang a good five hours to stop by every sleeping crewmember and whisper in their ears that the Avatar was supposed to bring balance to the entire world, which included the Fire Nation, so it was really in their best interests that they let him go, pretty please. But none of them had budged an inch, except for Zuko's uncle, who'd twitched slightly, and then rolled over with a loud snore.

Speaking of Zuko...

“...M' sorry, father...”

Aang scowled down at Zuko's restless sleeping form. “I hope your nightmares suck,” he grumbled, and then felt mean about it. “Stop making me feel bad! It's not fair, you're the one who's trapped me in a block of ice!” He folded his arms and stuck his tongue out at the other boy. “I promise, if you try and keep me there for a hundred years, I'll- I'll-”

Inspiration.

“I'll go back to the spirit world and and send- uh, something big and horrible after you!” He smiled proudly to himself. “Yeah! That'll teach you.”

Then his smile faded away. It was an idea in theory, but not a very good one. He knew just enough about spirits to know he didn't know enough about spirits. They could break him out of the ice, or they could quite as easily hijack his body and do something terrible with it. And that was even assuming they let him out of the spirit world at all. It wasn't something he really wanted to risk if he could avoid it.

Zuko twitched and muttered something under his breath, and Aang sighed. “I'm gonna go see if any of the night shift can see me. Then I wouldn't have to get spirits involved.” As he spoke, his eyes flicked up to meet the eyeless holes in the new Blue Spirit mask that hung on the wall. “But it'd be better if you could just let me go. Why did you even rescue me at all?”

“...Your loyal son...”

Aang scowled and stomped towards the door. “You're a jerk and your ponytail is stupid!” he yelled over his shoulder, and left to go and shout at the kitchen staff. He wasn't really surprised when Zuko showed up a few minutes later.

xxx

There were no bisons in the sky and Iroh was beginning to get quite concerned about that. Either the ice was preventing the bison from locating its owner, or Zuko's decoy ships had _worked._ He hadn't planned for that, which really was quite short-sighted of him. He should've known by now that Zuko could overcome the most impossible of odds simply by flatly refusing to believe they were impossible.

Unfortunately, that also meant the boy refused to believe it was impossible to earn his father's love. Catching the Avatar was supposed to be impossible, but he'd done it, as instructed, which meant Ozai had to restore Zuko's honour and accept his son back. That was the deal.

Iroh didn't really want to see what would happen when Ozai broke the terms of that deal.

So. Time to light a figurative beacon on the ship. Something big and loud, that said 'this is where the Avatar is being held.' A nice, shouty teenage-shaped one should do the trick.

“Prince Zuko!” he called out cheerfully, spotting his nephew pacing the deck again, looking increasingly agitated.

“I don't want to play pai sho, Uncle!” Zuko snapped.

“Actually, I thought perhaps if you were feeling better, you might wish to spar with some of the crew,” Iroh replied smoothly, to the obvious surprise of Zuko and the few crewmembers within earshot. “They are, after all, some of the better firebenders in the navy. They should be an interesting challenge.”

“Hmm...” Zuko considered that for a moment, oblivious to the angry mutterings around him. “It would be nice to practise with some competent opponents for a change.”

The angry mutterings increased in volume.

“Excellent.” Iroh looked expectantly at the nearby crew. “Who wants to go first?”

He wasn't particularly surprised when a queue formed, and sat back with a pot of tea to watch as Zuko proceeded to very blatantly, very publicly, wipe the floor with them all. The following argument, in which he loudly accused them all of holding back, could be heard for miles.

But several hours passed and there was still no sky bison.

xxx

“AAAAAAAAA!”

The guard standing on deck didn't flinch and Aang stepped back with a sigh. “Fine. I'll try the next one.” He spun around, stomped across the deck towards the next guard, leaned up on tiptoe and screamed in her face. “HELLOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The guard didn't even blink. Aang carried on staring at her or several seconds until she did, but by then, it was too late to kid himself that it had been because of his yelling and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “OK. Next one. There's two hundred and thingy people people on this boat, _one_ of you has to have enough spiritual awareness to notice me!”

(That one of them was currently holding a pillow over his ears and fervently hoping the Avatar would stop screaming soon and let him go to sleep.)

Aang screamed in the faces of every guard on duty. He screamed in the faces of the crew on the bridge. He screamed in the face of the man in charge of the messenger hawks, which did actually get a reaction, but only from the hawks. He amused himself in that way for a while, until he started to feel bad for annoying the birds. And, if to be entirely honest, for upsetting the crewman who was trying to calm the birds down. “Guess it's time to scream at the kitchen staff again,” he muttered to himself with no real enthusiasm. But it was either that, or scream at Zuko, and screaming at Zuko while he was asleep had lost a lot of it's appeal. Why did he have to have nightmares all the time? (He didn't want to know the answer to that.) It wasn't like _he_ was trapped in a block of ice!

Kitchen staff it was then. And while he was there, he'd check on his body, see if there were any cracks in the ice he could... also scream at.

And yet, somehow he wasn't all that surprised when he walked through the freezer door and found Zuko staring blankly at the ice block too.

“Paint a portrait, Prince Stupid-Ponytail, it'll last longer,” Aang sniped. Then his shoulders slumped again, because it was probably true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your comments so far! I'm just super bad at replying to them because I can never think of anything interesting to say, but I do read them and appreciate them, so thank you again!


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